Book Reviews 129 For example, deinstitutionalization did not occur simply because neuroleptic drugs were available (p. 97), and Philippe Pinel is no longer seen as “the liberator of the insane” (p. 114). This substantial work attempts to do too many things: it is simultaneously a celebration of Michigan’s state asylums, a journey down William Decker’s own memory lane, an overview of America’s psychiatric past, and a record of nearly every event that ever occurred at Traverse City’s mental hospital. Based on the success of Decker’s previous book about the asylum in Kalamazoo, it is understandable why he chose to write a companion text for Traverse City. Chapter 20 represents a surprisingly focused overview of the entire work, and readers may find this the most useful part of Decker’s book. In spite of Northern Michigan Asylum’s weaknesses, it is a title worth acquiring, as it contributes to local Michigan history and provides a worthy resource for lay and academic readers alike. Anouska Bhattacharyya Harvard University Jack Dempsey. Michigan and the Civil War: A Great and Bloody Sacrifice. Charleston, S.C.: The History Press, 2011. Pp. 174. Appendix. Illustrations. Index. Notes. Partial bibliography. Paper, $21.99. In the midst of secession’s sesquicentennial, as PBS reprises Ken Burns’s documentary and reenactors prepare for a busier-than-average season of encampments, Dempsey’s engaging contribution also indicates beyond the slightest doubt that his state has endured far worse than the current economic “downturn.” Not that celebrating the selflessness of Civil War-era Michiganders while minding our twentyfirst -century standard of scholarly detachment is always easy. Participation and casualty rates that exceed those of almost all other Union states make the task of explaining that selflessness in 174 pages especially challenging. The greater part of this volume relies on familiar secondary sources and published memoirs, yet the nonspecialist reading public will benefit. Organization varies from chronological to topical, beginning with brief overviews of Michigan from statehood to 1860, the secession crisis, 1861, and 1862. Subsequent chapters on women, naval operations on the Great Lakes, black troops, generals, politicians, POWs, and combat/combat-support units other than infantry are 130 The Michigan Historical Review interspersed with three others summarizing Michigan’s contributions in 1863, 1864, and 1865, concluding with the capture of Jefferson Davis by elements of the Fourth Michigan Cavalry. Although readers in search of reevaluations of Michigan’s more prominent dramatis personae—Zachariah Chandler, George A. Custer, and Henry Hunt, for example—will be disappointed, they will just as surely profit from the added attention given their less famous but also important contemporaries. Austin Blair gets a far better showing than William B. Hesseltine affords him in Lincoln and the War Governors, even though Dempsey fails to demolish Hesseltine’s argument. Elon J. Farnsworth, a capable cavalry officer killed in action along with far too many of his men because of Hugh Judson Kilpatrick’s abysmal generalship, also appears. Farnsworth’s is more a story of what might have been; by recognizing that the charge Kilpatrick had ordered would surely fail, he demonstrated in his dying hour a fitness for divisional command that his superior clearly lacked. Alpheus Williams, Israel Richardson, and Orlando Willcox also appear in justifiably bold relief, although at least one equally deserving Michigan commander gets far less attention. Robert H. G. Minty, arguably one of the Union’s more effective cavalry brigade commanders—and one who also had the misfortune to serve under Kilpatrick—receives less coverage than he deserves. Unfortunately, readers will encounter spotty copyediting, including misspelled names, such as Philip St. George Cook instead of Cooke (p. 169). So, too, is sufficient context lacking in places. Frequent descriptions of Custer as “the Boy General” create the impression that generals in their twenties were rarer than was actually the case. Indeed, Farnsworth was only two years older than Custer, and Kilpatrick, three. Nor did Lee drive McClellan away from Richmond (p. 38); McClellan fell back repeatedly during and after the Seven Days Campaign even when not pressed by Lee. And because John Pope is not mentioned, Dempsey creates the impression that Lee opposed McClellan at Second Manassas as well (p...
Read full abstract